Sarah vs the Scenes - The Codeword Files - Operation Lightshow
by Vicki St. Claire
Summary: Snippets of Chuck and Sarah's exploration of their secret alternative lifestyle, picking up where Sarah vs the Scenes left off. Warning: This story is rated M for strong adult and D/s themes. If this is not your thing, don't go any further.


**Hello, my darlings. Here is something new. It's a holiday story; a little late, but as you'll see, not by a lot. I'll admit it; I've been having trouble posting some of these things, and this one is a little irreverent, making it even tougher. Hee. I think you will find it fun and humorous, however, if you are a fan of the Scenes.**

**Believe it, or not, this little holiday ditty is the product of an impromptu prompt from my beta reader. Thanks, my dear.**

**Enjoy.**

**Warning: This story is rated hard M/NC-17 for sexual themes and D/s BDSM content. If this type thing makes you squeamish it's time to leave now. But if you stick around you'll see the dedication and the love always shine through.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, any of the characters within it, nor any of the innuendos from the series that inspired the creation of this story, not even the OC's I've added. I make no money from it, and I don't write this to ruffle anyone's plumage.**

* * *

**Sarah vs the Scenes - The Codeword Files**

**Operation Lightshow - Sarah vs the Angel**

It was finally time to do it. Time to take down the lights. They'd just spent their first Christmas in their new home in Newport Beach. It'd been Chuck and Sarah's first one in a real house they could call all their own, paid for in full, with cold hard cash. There weren't many in this very high-end neighborhood who could say that. Standing on the master bedroom balcony as she unwrapped a string of lights from around the railing posts, Sarah paused to look out over the beach in front of her, across the broad expanse of sand to the Pacific Ocean beyond. The sight always took her breath away. Their home was all she had ever dreamed of, and much, much more. It was cozy, not really very large, but very homey and comfortable. It had the red door, and the white picket fence; and the warm white sands of the beach were right outside the patio doors off the living room, across a concrete bike and footpath she and Chuck either ran, or rode on almost daily.

They had a lot of Christmas lights to take down; thousands of them. Christmas on the Balboa Peninsula was a very big deal. All the homeowners went full-bore with the decorations, and there was a yearly contest. Naturally, Chuck had attacked the challenge with his usual enthusiastic and nerdish gusto. Their display had been very elaborate; a multitude of miniature LED lights, every color of the rainbow, lit in flowing and fluctuating harmony to music broadcast over a small FM transmitter, and softly played over a set of speakers on their patio. Their neighbors across the street, the Johnson's, who were no slouches themselves, having won several of the lighting competitions over the last ten years they'd been in their own amazing home, they'd been awestruck. Now Chuck and Frank were collaborating on a combined display for the following year. The thought of where that could lead made Sarah shake her head, with a laugh and a huge grin.

"What's so funny?" Chuck asked from the ladder below her.

"Oh, I'm just wondering where all this is going to take us next year, now that you have a reputation to uphold," she said with wry smile, "How many people we'll have on the boardwalk every night next year gawking at all of this." She waggled her eyebrows at him, in a surprisingly good imitation of his Bartowski eyebrow dance, an affectation she was getting better at every day. "I'm also wondering if you'll do a repeat performance of your own personal light display next year."

Chuck laughed, returning her gesture while grinning lecherously at her. "Oh, I think you can count on it. I think that's going to be a new Christmas tradition for us. I can't recall ever having that much fun putting up decorations. And I think the judging committee expects it, too."

"Oh, God, Chuck, if you do that to me again on judging night, there will be hell to pay."

"Heheh. I love it when you threaten me like that. Isn't revenge the sweetest of Christmas treats?"

"Just remember you said that, Buddy. You know how creative I can be when it comes to revenge."

"Don't I ever," Chuck replied, exchanging a knowing smile with her from the top of the ladder, "That's why I like to keep you on _your_ toes, too, so expect it again next year. Who knows? Maybe on judging night, maybe on a different one, but it _will_ happen, count on it, sure as Santa comes down the chimney."

"_Right_, the chimney," Sarah replied with a wet laugh, thinking about that delightfully irreverent French Tickler he'd also used on her the other night, as she finished wrapping her current string of lights on a spool and set it in the large plastic tub next to her. Then she looked into their large bedroom through the French doors and huffed in amusement from the memory. She couldn't help herself and walked into the room, standing in about the same spot, and looked out the open doors onto the beach. _Holy FUCK, I still can't believe he did that to me!_

"Hey! Where'd you go?" she heard her nerd shout, "We still have a lot of lights to take down, you know."

"Oh, I'm only up here reminiscing for a minute, or two," she shouted back. Sarah heard the sound of feet descending a latter, and then saw Chuck swing himself over the picket fence below, and bound across the path to stand on the short concrete bench/wall between the boardwalk and the beach, looking up at her.

"You naughty, naughty girl," he said, grinning broadly at her.

"ME!? _I__'m _naughty? I think you should go look in a mirror and see the real naughty one, you devious young man."

"Yes, I think I will, in the full length mirror." Chuck quickly looked both ways down the path and smiled crookedly at her, waggling his brows. "When I do I'll have you, in all your angelic glory, sharing the reflection with me, while I... well, use your imagination," he whispered loudly, his voice low and husky. He jumped off the wall, and back over the fence back onto the patio. "I'll be right here if you need anything after you're done waxing nostalgic," his disembodied voice sang mischievously.

_Whoa!_ Instantly, her skin felt hot. Sarah didn't need her imagination, because lately her nerd had been topping it in almost every lurid category. He'd made very good use of that mirror, very recently. "I'll bare that in mind," she said absently, noting the way her brain had changed the spelling of the word with a smirk. _I'll show you waxing, Chuck,_ she thought, trying to shake the thought from her head, with a broad smile, so she could concentrate on the one she'd come in here to reminisce about. She stood there for a moment, and closed her eyes, and suddenly she _was_ bare, completely naked, standing in this very spot. Well, almost; her feet were barely touching the floor.

D/s

"What's in the box, Chuck?" Sarah asked, when she saw him taking it up the stairs to their bedroom, two steps at a time.

"Just some more decorations and lights. I thought I'd use them in our room."

"In our room? What on earth for? Who's going to see them up there except us? And I thought you were done with the lights and stuff, or does this have something to do with the light display judging tonight?"

"You could say that. Yeah, it's for the judging. I want to do one last finishing touch for the competition, something special that will push us over the top. I thought I'd build a little display that can be seen through the balcony doors and windows, something ethereal and magical. I'll take it down right before we go to bed."

"Sounds intriguing. Do you need any help with it?" Sarah called innocently up to him.

"Oh yeah I'll definitely need your help with this one." He paused at the top of the stairs, giving her a thin smile that was definitely hiding something. "I'll come and get you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay. I'll open a bottle of wine."

"Sounds good, but no peeking, I'm wrapping a present right now," he replied, with a mischievously exaggerated wink.

Sarah shook her head in amusement when he disappeared around the corner. _My spydee senses are tingling again. He is up to something, again._

After a while her Chuck re-appeared in the kitchen. He looked full of the devil, and Sarah started to feel those senses tingling in overdrive, and that curious anticipation that occurred whenever she thought he might be about to spring a surprise scene on her. He had a habit of telegraphing these things to her purposely, to titillate her, and at the moment the Morse Code was beeping furiously fast in her head.

"Okay, I'm ready. We can put up that last display now, and I also have a special early gift, just for _you_."

"A special gift?"

"Special," he replied with the eyebrow dance, dragging the word out in a poor imitation of Gollum from the Lord of the Rings, "For my precious."

Sarah huffed a laugh, barely perceptibly tinged with nervousness. _"_Oh, that definitely sounds Christmassy, Chuck. Your enthusiasm for the season is beginning to scare me."

"Tonight I'm Santa's evil elf," he replied lyrically in the voice, picking up the glasses and the bottle of wine from the counter. He leaned over and kissed her, sweetly. "Precious." He grinned, wickedly, and her pulse shot up. "I'm the elf Santa sends to give gifts to all the very naughty girls in the world."

Sarah's brow dropped as she looked at him with a challenging grin. "I'm not sharing you with any other naughty girls I haven't already pre-approved, so don't make any travel plans without showing me your elfin itinerary, _Buddy._"

Chuck broke into a wider smile, and rolled his eyes in the direction of the stairs, "C'mon, my itinerary is upstairs waiting for you to review it."

When Sarah walked into their master bedroom, for a moment she didn't know what to think. The first thing she noticed was that the blackout curtains were drawn. It was a little confusing at first until her eyes fell on a few specific items arranged on their bedspread. And one thing in particular caught her attention, standing in the middle of the sitting area not far from the French doors to the balcony that overlooked the beach and boardwalk in front of the patio below.

After a few seconds examining it she knew exactly what it was; what was euphemistically called a fucking machine. Sarah was far from a sexual prude, she'd seen many of these things online. They even had a couple of them in their own playroom, something they'd decided to try after experiencing one in Sally's circus showroom. However, this one was very different from any she'd yet seen. "Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. What are you up to now, Chuck?"

Not saying a word, but only smiling broadly at her, her nerd strode to the table and two chairs in the corner of the sitting area, and poured them some glasses of wine, handing one to her. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said, raising his glass, "To our first Christmas in our new home, and making some new and everlasting memories along with it."

"Hear, hear, I'll drink to that. To our first Christmas in our new home," Sarah said with slightly guarded, but sincere cheerfulness, stepping close to him and clinking her glass against his. Taking a drink along with him, the corner of her mouth turned up as she swallowed the sip of wine, and she shook her head with perplexed amusement. "Although, you suddenly have me very curious what you mean by making new and lasting memories," she intoned, gesturing with her glass to the contraption standing in the middle of the floor next to her.

She couldn't help herself, and approached it curiously. It was essentially a pole, on a heavy, circular gold base, and it occurred to her, looking at it, that it was the North Pole. She laughed. "Oh, Geez. Unbelievable."

She touched the large gold ball on top of the red and white candy cane spiraled shaft, and gulped. It was really large, atop a smaller section of the striped pole about ten inches long with a sculpted, gold base that looked very familiar. It was pretty obvious the nubby raised surface on one side of the base was a clitoral stimulator, no doubt one of Bill Montague's amazing gyrator toys, several iterations of which had already driven her nearly comatose on a number of different occasions. Within the stripes of the phallus atop the pole, and the pole itself, were red and white translucent bumps. She ran a finger along them "What are these?"

"Lights, of course. LED's. It's a Christmas decoration," Chuck said proudly, with a crooked grin, "Congratulations, Sarah Bartowski, you get to be a part of our light display this year." He laughed, and took a large drink of his wine.

"Oh. My. God." Sarah's mouth fell open, and after staring at her diabolical nerd for a moment, she raised her glass to her lips, and almost drained it.

Chuck laughed again. "Here, let me refill that for you," he said, taking her glass, "While you get undressed."

"No way."

"Yes way," he replied firmly giving her the evil eye, "C'mon, get in the spirit of it, it'll be fun, and no one will be able to tell you're an actual person. They'll think it's an angel when I'm done with you. And you know what? They'll be right."

Sarah grinned sheepishly at his incredibly endearing compliment, even as she was reeling from its implications. "People, some of them our neighbors I'd like to add, are going to actually _see _me?"

"Sort of. You'll see. Now get with it, angel, get stripped down to your glorious birthday suit." He refilled her glass and set it on the table, looking at her expectantly. "Come on Sarah, do I have to say it?" he asked with a syrupy smile, meeting her eyes, "Trust me."

She swallowed again, heavily, and reached for her wine. Chuck wrapped an arm around her waist and, clinking glasses again, kissed her, adoringly. "How long?" she asked, after taking another big drink.

"Until the judges and most of the usual onlookers leave, after I shut off the music. A couple of hours, maybe a little more."

After a brief stare-down, Sarah dropped her chin with narrowing eyes, and replied, "Okay. I'll do it."

"You didn't have a choice," her nerd said with a smirk, causing her to raise her eyebrow and draw her lips into a thin line, but still smiling, ever so slightly. "And don't give me that look, I've heard that from _you_ before, too, so suck it up."

Sarah chuckled, shaking her head. "I suppose sucking 'it' won't get me out of this?"

"Ha!" Chuck took her glass, setting it back on the table. "NO. Now strip."

She gazed at him through her lashes as she slowly began to unbutton her blouse.

"That-a-girl, we're gonna have fun with this, just you wait and see."

"Uh, huh. I know one of us will."

"Oh ye of little faith, trust your Dom, he won't let you down."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she murmured with a wry smile, as she teased him a button at a time.

After a few minutes of giving Chuck an impromptu strip show, to the rhythm of the classic rock-and-roll Christmas music already playing outside in accompaniment to their display, Sarah was standing in her birthday suit, in all her glory, in front of the 'North Pole'. Now she was watching her nerd lace a white, leather single-glove around her arms and hands in front of her, from her fingertips to her elbows. When he was done, cinching a wide strap around her wrists to complete the restraint, she looked on while Chuck stood on a chair and hooked a block and tackle onto one of the hidden attachments in the overhead beams, custom modifications done to them before they'd moved in. Her nerd then hooked the ring on the tip of her single-glove to the line from the pulley and, with a grin, hoisted her tightly gloved arms above her head, pointing at the ceiling, and then raised her completely off the floor.

"You're going to suspend me like this for two hours or more?"

"Why not? Angels can fly, you know." He snickered when she went wide-eyed. "No, I'm only kidding. We only have to start this way."

Sarah sighed with relief, and watched him pick up a wide spreader bar she'd seen on the bed upon entering the room. It had a ring in the middle of it and white leather cuffs on the ends. She watched as he strapped it to her ankles, spreading her legs wide, and she began to twist slowly on the suspension line from the ceiling. Next he positioned the pole beneath her and, opening the ring in the center of the spreader bar, re-closed it around the red and white striped pole. It fit loose, allowing the spreader bar to slid up and down the pole. The golden globe atop the shaft was now poised right below the suddenly wet opening to her love tunnel.

"Starting to get the picture?" Chuck asked, as he steadied her facing the windows.

"Yes," she breathed, feeling her breath begin to quicken, "I think I'm beginning to get the idea. You are a wicked elf, Chuck Bartowski."

"Yeah, I've been learning the ropes from some of the best," he replied congenially, "You, Sally, Veronica, Carina. What do they call girl elves, anyway?"

"Elves, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, I think you're right." he replied, grinning up at her. He looked like he was having way too much fun. "Anyway, you know darn well all you evil lady elves can take most of the credit for my education in this craft."

"I'll gladly accept my portion of the blame," she said softly, watching him lower her towards the large gold ball as her spreader bar slid down the pole, "however, those other elves have been nothing but a bad influence on you latel-_Haaaaaaahhh_," she gasped, when the ball began pushing in, "Oooooh, _FUCK.__"_

"Haha, admit it, you know you love the bad influence those ladies have on me," he said playfully, lowering her gradually, an inch at a time.

"Yes, I admit it," she exclaimed in a rush between quick breaths, "I... love the... nasty... things... they're teaching you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, ooooh, _fuuuuck._"

"That's the general idea behind this goodie."

"It's living up to it!" Sarah stared down at the long shaft buried only a few inches into her, the head of it barely inside her tight opening as she came to rest on the balls of her feet.

"You weren't exactly sounding like an angel there, sweetheart, more like a fallen one," Chuck muttered, as he tied off the rope off to the bedpost while she watched saucer-eyed.

"An evil elf will do that to you."

"True that," he replied lyrically, rummaging around in his ornament box. "Time for some decorations." He held up a string of white, miniature Christmas lights. Looking close at them as he started to wrap them around one of her legs she could see they were the 'old-fashioned' incandescent type that would get warm to the touch. "Don't worry about getting electrocuted. I've got all this on a ground fault circuit, so you'll be perfectly safe."

"Oh, well, that's comforting," Sarah replied facetiously, watching the light string wind up her leg.

"I thought you'd appreciate the safety gesture."

She watched her nerd wind strand after strand of lights around her body and limbs, from her pointed, single-gloved fingertips to her toes, even encircling her breasts with several loops. As Sarah looked on, her calves started to give out on her; and she settled a little onto the candy cane shaft of the North Pole with a slow gasping moan as the rope stretched slightly under her weight. When her nerd elf was finally done, there wasn't more than a few square inches of her body that hadn't been covered with tiny white lights. Then she chuckled, breathlessly, when Chuck removed a set of lighted angel's wings from the box, and strapped them to her back. "This is too, too much," she said, shaking her head, "I can't believe it."

"Oh I'll make a believer out of you all right, soon enough," her creative nerd replied, starting to string green and multi-colored lights from the ends of her spreader bar to a hook hanging from the ring at her gloved fingertips. As he worked the lights inward, from top to bottom, it struck her that they were making a triangular Christmas tree shape that her outstretched form was in the center of. It really was surprisingly pretty, especially when he topped it off with a lighted plastic star that he hung on the top; and she wasn't even lit up yet, literally, _or _figuratively. Presently, she watched him work on the finishing touches, while he whistled to the music playing in the background from their outdoor display.

"Almost done," Chuck said, with gleeful enthusiasm, "Oh boy, I can hardly wait to see this!"

"You know, I have to say, I'm getting excited about it, too," Sarah admitted with a touch of mirth in her voice, "This just might put us over the top, Chuck."

"Well, it'll definitely put _you _over the top," he teased back, plugging in the last of the cords. He held up a pressure switch with a small weight on the cord in front her. "Now, this will help you contain yourself so you don't scare the judges with your angelic voice. Open up."

"Is that a safe-switch?" she asked, before biting it between her teeth.

"Not exactly. It will, however, let you call out to me if you must, to let you off the hook if you can't take it anymore. _But_, if you let it go, it will kick this thing into high gear, and _really _make you feel like you got your angel's wings until I turn it off." He held up a small remote, like a car remote. "Just call my name. Probably shouldn't use 'pineapple' for this one." He strode to the door and turned off the lights, and then opened the blackout curtains, revealing only the thin gauzy semi-transparent drapes covering the doors and windows. And then, he lit her up.

Sarah looked on, awestruck, gasping around the bit as the lights began to dance in a pattern around her, and the pole slowly rose into her while the red and white lights spiraled up it in a rotating pattern. It looked all the world like the North Pole was being screwed up into her pussy. It was freaky to watch, and intensely stimulating; because the whole shaft was shaking, and the nubs from the lights on the phallus were coarsely massaging her, as the shaft rose up, and the base of the phallus on top bumped into her. The gyrating clitoral stimulator elicited a sharp, blasting moan from her nose and around the bit, and she almost dropped it as the pole lifted her onto her toes. Then she nearly dropped it again, when she bit back a laugh, because the lights were moving in harmony with the music playing on their outdoor display.

_Holy fuck, I just can__'t believe this! You have really outdone yourself this time, Chuck Bartowski!_

"Don't worry about being seen clearly enough for anyone to figure out you're a real naked girl, I've already tested it to make sure that wouldn't happen," Chuck said matter-of-factly, as he strode to the door.

_I don__'t even want to know how you did that, Chuck!_

"Oh, one other thing, he said, holding the up the remote control, "I can also turn that _up_ with this, if you want. All you have to do is shout, 'Chuck, make me a toddy, please' and I'll be happy to do that for you. I'll probably turn it up a notch when the committee gets here anyway, just so you know you're being judged."

Sarah craned her head around, stunned, to see him grinning broadly at her from the corner of her eye, his teeth glowing in the semi-darkness, lit from her lights, lights that were getting warm, like a thousand little pinpoints all over her body. And then her Chuck laughed like a little boy running down the stairs to the presents under the tree on Christmas day as he left their room.

D/s

It was getting extremely intense. The lights and the fucking machine pole she was impaled upon were ramping up in harmony to the music setting the cadence of the light display, both outside and around her. He hadn't warned her about that, _that too tall fucking devious elf. _Their music selection, the one she'd ironically helped pick, had been arranged in a queue of increasingly more energetic rock-and-roll Christmas tunes; with tempos that got faster right along with the celebratory energy of each progressive song.

It had her wiggling like a marionette, and rising and falling, as the phallus atop the pole pumped in an out, lifting her onto her toes, with ever more pronounced bumps of the base on her pudenda. That base had begun gyrating wildly, and the roughly nubbed stimulator that was a part of it shot Sarah into a higher orbit every time it hit her squarely on her clit. It drove her into a frenzy, as she fought to keep from opening her mouth each time it pushed her up onto her toes. Right before her first climax she'd started to wonder why she was even fighting it, and just get it over with by dropping that switch between her teeth, until Chucks own words popped back into her head when her clitoris popped like a new year's eve cherry bomb right along with the thought. The idea that it could more powerful than it already was had kept her mouth tightly shut.

To top it all off, she could see herself, like a ghostly lit apparition, reflected in the window panes of the doors in front of her, through the thin, pleated curtains covering them. She had a feeling that what she saw probably wasn't much different than what passersby were seeing from the boardwalk and beach below; an unearthly dancing angel in a Christmas tree; a winged field of stars flying through a pagan symbol of eternity and hope for the season. And that pole, it was unreal; a spinning, glittering spiral of red and white lights, boring into her in changing rhythm to the music. Chuck had been right. She really did look like an angel, bright, and shimmering, and mysterious, flying through the sky on a showering column of spinning stars.

She'd just climaxed for the third time and was rapidly climbing towards a fourth. By the estimate of her own normally, very reliable internal clock, Sarah had figured that she'd been lit up for a little over an hour, if she could even trust her clock under the current circumstances. Her evil elf had timed it all carefully, because the judging committee should be arriving any minute. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, the gyrator between her legs kicked into a higher gear, serendipitously, right when it lifted her onto her toes. It blasted her into the air like a skyrocket, wiggling on a flame of sparks, exploding high in the sky.

After several long shuddering moments, she lost control, and the switch fell out of her mouth as it flew wide open.

"A very, very nice display Mr. Bartowski," the president of the homeowners association said with a touch of awe, "A marvelous use of light, motion and sound. I've never seen anything like it."

"Yes, you've really raised the bar, Chuck," added their neighbor, Gloria Johnson, who was one of the judges this year. "Some of the neighbors think I have a conflict of interest because we've won this so many times in the past, you know? But, wow, they won't this time, not this year. I always recuse myself from the voting when we get to our house, and only a few know that. Because of that, I get to double vote on one house. This year it's going to be yours; and do you know why?"

"Oh, gosh, Gloria, thanks so much," Chuck exclaimed with a beaming smile while they stood on the boardwalk admiring the Bartowski animated lightshow, "It really was a labor of love, in more ways than you'll ever know. No, I don't know why. What put it over the top for you?"

The middle-aged woman dressed in casual winter beach elegance placed her hand on his arm and pointed up with her other. "That. We've been seeing more, and more indoor elements every year. Some of them have become quite elaborate, huge window displays of stuffed animals and such. But that single display you have is so understatedly beautiful, so creative, and so animated. An angel is such a powerful representation of the season. You really did hit the nail on the head with that interpretation."

"I have to agree," said another of the judges, a younger woman maybe ten years older than Chuck and Sarah, with an iconoclastic hairdo that went well with her neo-hippy attire and over-the-top holiday bling. "The whole thing is gorgeous, but the way that angel is superimposed into a tree, is, well, it's just stunning. It looks so alive and real, and yet heavenly and ethereal at the same time. You've really done something special here Chuck, I'm astounded."

"Thanks, Wanda-"

"That's an interesting sound effect, too, Mr. Bartowski," said another judge, cutting him off, a trim and burly man with a cigar in his mouth that reminded Chuck of John Casey. "It really does sound like an angel singing, like a voice only children and animals could hear calling them in the night. It's beautiful."

Okay, Chuck corrected himself, he only looked a little like John. Chuck ran his hand slowly over his smile nervously. He knew exactly what that sound was.

"Chuck, my boy, I think it's safe to say you've won the competition this year," the association president uttered with confidence, "We still have a number of houses to go, but I seriously doubt we'll see another one like this." He stuck his hand out for Chuck to shake.

"Well thank you, George, thanks a bunch," Chuck exclaimed, "A very happy holiday season to you, and yours too. I can't wait to tell Sarah."

"Speaking of Sarah, where is she, Chuck?" asked Mrs. Johnson, "I was hoping we would see her, I know she had a big hand in this."

Chuck almost choked when he swallowed suddenly. "Much more than a hand, Gloria; she put all of herself into it this year. She's inside getting us a late supper and attending to some final decorations before we have guests in a couple of days. We'll call you and have you and Frank over for drinks later in the week. How's that sound?"

"That sounds wonderful, Chuck. You and Frank can start planning that collaboration you spoke of."

"CHUCK!" The hair on his neck stood up and he held his breath. "C-Can-you-m-make-m-me-a-t-toddy-PLEASE?!"

"A-And that's my que. I'm the official mixer of libations tonight," Chuck stuttered in a rush, reaching into his pocket with a sudden grin.

"Well you'd better get to it, she sounds like she really needs one," one of the judges said with a chuckle.

"Yeah. Holiday stress and jitters," Chuck exclaimed, quickly shaking offered hands, before vaulting the picket fence. "Family for the holidays in the new home, does it every time," he added running for the door. "See you all next week for the holiday party and the boat parade!"

The door slammed.

D/s

"OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, EEEEEEeeeeeee! Aaaaaaaaaaah! _Fuuuuuu...uuuuuck, C-C-C-Chuuuuuuuucck! EeeeeeeeEEEEEE! Pleeeeease! T-T-Turn... this... thing... down! _EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaa!"

He stood transfixed in utter shock, staring at the unearthly display in front of him, frozen by the sights and sounds of his angel singing in flight.

"CHUUUUUUUCK!" Suddenly dragged back down to earth, Chuck yanked the remote from his pocket, and fumbled it, all the way to the hardwood floor where it slid under the bed.

"_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaah!_ C-Chuuuucck! _N-N-N-N-Nownownownownow!_"

Scrambling under the bed with wildly flailing arms, he scooped it up and stabbed the button with his thumb, and his angel fell limp.

"Thank you," a tiny high-pitched voice said, so quiet, but still carrying an unfathomable amount of emotion, as the source of it hung panting, suspended from the ceiling. "What in heaven's name was I _thinking_ when I said _that_," she gasped, "Oh. My. God."

"Are you okay?" Chuck asked, scrambling around in front of her on his hands and knees, rubbing his head where it had hit the bed rail. "Wow, are you ever a sight."

"Yes... I think so," she squeaked, between whistling pants for breath, "Talk about sensory overload... holy fuck... what a gift..."

"It was an amazing gift, Sarah, from YOU. We WON!"

"Yay. Can I come down now?"

"Well... um... gosh... um, not yet? Everyone's talking about you... er... I mean _the_ angel. There's still a crowd of people out on the boardwalk admiring you. Word has gotten around. There's an angel in our house."

"Oh, wonderful, my fans await. Do you think they heard me?"

"No. Not much, at least. Not with Keith Richards wailing 'run, run, Rudolph' in the foreground." His grin lit up. "One of the judges thought you sounded like a singing angel."

"Lovely. That song was intense. It didn't make me feel very angelic. Check that, maybe it did. If this is what it feels like to be an angel, sign me up after I check out."

Chuck laughed quietly, gazing up at his pink-faced angel, still lit up in dancing lights, mounted on a striped vibrating pole that was now reduced to a soft purr. She was surreal looking. "Please don't make any plans to leave any time soon to sign up, okay?"

"What, and miss all this fun? Not happenin' for a long time, honey, not if I can help it. Look, I'll make you a deal. Sit with me until most of my fans have gone, and I'll stay up here. Then we'll finish that bottle of wine."

"Sure. That's easy. I was going to do that anyway," he said softly, crossing his legs under him as he sat on the floor. "I love you Sarah Bartowski. You're an incredible angel."

"I love you too, Chuck Walker, can you tell how much?"

"Oh, yeah." He giggled giddily. "You know I kind of like the sound of that. Chuck Walker. That sounds like a better spy's name than Charles Carmichael."

"I'm so happy I can share it with you."

"Like everything else."

"Exactly. Merry Christmas, Chuck.

"Merry Christmas, Sarah."

* * *

**Happy new year, my sweet Dommes/Doms and Subs!**

**Until next time.**

**Vicki xoxo**


End file.
